Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to wait for tomorrow. Linus was anxious and could not stop his thoughts from racing at a thousand miles per minute:

What about mom?

Why did it sound like his sister had kept something important but grave from him?

Every minute longer he spent thinking about it left him with new, worse scenarios about what Annie would reveal about their mom.

The only person who he had felt understood by. At least, before she had left without a trace and never returned.

She had only left a picture behind with words written on the back that neither he, his sister nor any expert they had visited recognized. Only the last word had been written in English, clearly in her handwriting, making them believe that the rest had been her words too - also considering the same pen and colour of ink had been used.

The word had been a plain and simple "Goodbye."

The experts had theories, alright, but neither had made them come a step closer to reveal the truth.

Quite a few thought they had identified a linguistic family. Others thought it might have been a code - which they had not been able to decipher. An older librarian from the town had even tried to convince them that magical creatures were involved and that she had seen that type of writing in an old book before. But that book seemed to not be existent as well.

Many questions and only dead ends.

He had carried that picture with him like the guilt, anger, and sadness he could not shake off ever since the day his mother had left. It had been the only personal value she had left behind. Every belonging of hers had vanished, just like her.

And now, the picture was gone, too.

Like his mother. And his father.

Linus had to sit down. He hadn't thought  about his father for quite a while now. His death had been tragic but not often spoken of: He had died of a broken heart.

Well, at least that had been the starting point of reckless endeavours, because after their mother had left, their father had set out to find his wife. Endeavours that had left him to neglect his two grieving children ... and ultimately killed him. His ship sank two months after her disappearance to the depths of the sea.

Annie and him had been taken in by their grandparents from his father's side. Both dedicated and caring. A character trait their father had shared with them before the loss of his wife and left him changed forever.

Still, Annie and him, they did not have much to complain, still growing up with loving guardians- still, it had never been the same. Ever since, they had this weight on their shoulders, even years after rumours had quieted down in this noisy town. Their story remained as a distant, tragic tale for rainy evenings, only told in whispers and to children listening eagerly. But the wounds, they remained. And with them the deafening quesions: Why and to where had she disappeared? Was she still alive? Did she knew about her husbands death that left her children without parents? Would she ever return?

The most dangerous and tricky thing about it all was hope: even after all these years, all the waiting and longing for answers, all the pain, anger and tears, he still hadn't given up on the hope to see his mother again.